Redemption
by Alice-in-french
Summary: Redemption comes in many forms, to the people who least expect it and feel most undeserving. No one thought Lancelot's cold heart could be captured, and Giuliana is determined to shoulder her burdens alone. LancelotxOC. A Beta would be appreciated!
1. The Girl in the Tavern

_Well, this is my first King Arthur story and only my second chapter story. I am ridiculously nervous about posting it, but my best friend, as always, reminded that I worry too much anyway and maybe I should take risks. I can't promise I will finish this story, although I do want to. Chapter two is finished, chapter three is in the process of being written, and an actual plot is beginning to form. I would love feedback; not reviews so much as actual (positive) criticism. I feel this is my most serious writing I have undertaken yet (other than my writing for English classes and the school newspaper). Also, I would love a beta. If you have beta services you would like to offer, perhaps we could talk. Anyway, without further ado..._

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**Chapter I**

Lancelot had seen Giuliana many times.

But not here. Never here. The young seamstress never ventured into the tavern, instead avoiding it like the plague. He knew it was the love of drink that led Giuliana's father to abuse her and her brother. The painful memories of childhood and the scar on her cheek led Giuliana to stay as far away from any alcohol as possible. Everyone who lived at this part of the Wall knew that. So why was she here?

The girl was standing behind the tavern counter, scrubbing the table top vigorously, pausing only when Vanora or another tavern wench stopped and asked for something for a patron.

Lancelot was shaken from his musings when a shove from Gawain reminded him he was in the middle of a dice game. He took a swig of his ale and rolled the die. Minutes later, Lancelot became a richer man, and Gawain protested loudly at the loss of his best knife.

Giuliana looked up from her work when shouts rose up from the far corner of the tavern. She stood frozen at the sound, until she realized it was simply one of the knights reacting to his dice game.

The girl had been skittish her entire time in the tavern. She jumped at every loud noise, and since the tavern was so busy, that meant everything. It made getting her work done difficult; she had scrubbed at the same spot for fifteen minutes.

She blew an auburn curl out of her face and threw her rag into the wash bucket. Vanora would be wanting more bread and stew for the men soon. It was a couple hours past the usual suppertime at the Wall, but Vanora liked to keep her customers well fed.

Just as Giuliana began cutting vegetables, Vanora sidled up next to her, one of her children on her hip. At the sudden new presence, the girl gave a small squeak of surprise.

"Girl, you are the jumpiest creature I've ever met," Vanora admonished.

Giuliana mumbled an apology.

"Hopefully this lot will shove out soon," she nodded toward the knights, "and you can be getting home."

Sure enough, an hour later, the small group of Sarmatians did leave the tavern (some at Vanora's strong insistence) and Giuliana was told to clean up the kitchen and then leave herself.

"Gilly! Gilly, come here," Vanora called to her oldest, who was currently fascinated by the few dice games remaining.

"You stop that grumbling, boy. Now, I want you to take Giuliana home – it's too dark out for her to go all by herself."

At the mention of Giuliana, Gilly instantly perked up, while a deep blush colored his cheeks and ears. Vanora eyed him curiously before turning back to Giuliana. She handed the girl a bundle that she had sat on the counter earlier.

"Here, take this extra stew and bread home. I'm sure Marcus missed having his evening meal at the usual time."

"Oh, Vanora, I can't -"

"Hush, girl, you can and you will. Now, home you go."

With a grateful smile, Giuliana left with Gilly. As soon as the fresh air of the street filled her nose, cleansing it of the stench of alcohol, Giuliana relaxed.

Not far into the short walk to her home, Giuliana noticed the usually chatty Gilly was unusually quiet. Her few attempts at conversation were quickly ended with his one word answers. He shuffled his feet in the dirt and kept his head bowed. She could not see the blush that still colored his cheeks.

They soon reached the door of the small cottage Giuliana shared with her brother. At fifteen, Gilly was just short enough for Giuliana to easily lean over and kiss his cheek in parting. "Thank you, Gilly, for bringing me home. And please, thank your mother for me again."

She could barely hear the boy's mumbled reply as he quickly turned and ran back the way they came, his face burning all the way to the roots of his hair.

She wore an amused smile, then looked warily around the deserted street before opening the door to her house and entering.

"Marcus? Marcus, are you home?" Giuliana called softly as she hung her cloak on the peg near the door.

She turned to find her brother slouched in the wooden chair next to the hearth. The fire she had stoked before leaving for the tavern had died down to embers. She added some more logs before hanging the pot of stew above the now cheery fire.

"Marcus, wake up." She prodded at his shoulder until his sleepy eyes blinked slowly open.

"Giulane.." he slurred.

She laughed softly, poking him once more. "Wake up, sleepy head, I have your dinner."

"Dinner?" He was awake now. "It's about time."

"Oh, don't complain."

"Don't complain? Giuliana, it's midnight and you are just now arriving home. I'll complain as much as I want – it's not right."

Giuliana sighed as she took the now warmed stew out of the fire and poured it into their bowls.

"I know, Marcus, but I can't keep working as a seamstress for Thaddeus."

"I wish you would tell me what happened to make you quit. You love being a seamstress," he said between spoonfuls.

"No, Marcus." She replied firmly.

"Giuliana, I am your brother, please."

"No!"

"Giuliana -"

"I'm going to bed," she cut him off. "Enjoy your supper." She hadn't touched hers.

With that, she left her brother at the table and went to her room.

Their house was divided into two rooms. The larger, outer room consisted of the hearth, a table, a few chairs, and Marcus's bed. The smaller room, which really resembled a closet, held Giuliana's bed and a small table for her few belongings.

She changed into her night shift and brushed and braided her long hair before blowing out the candles and settling into her straw mattress.

As she slept that night, Giuliana dreamt of a life long ago, of a large house and gardens, of children, and of laughter.

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"Come, Gawain, one more game!" Lancelot cried.

"No, my friend, I know when I am beat. Even drunk you are better at this game than me!"

"Vanora, another pitcher!" Galahad yelled at the passing barmaid.

"Oh no, not for you," the red-head replied. "The lot of you have been stinking my place up long enough tonight."

"Ah, come now, Nora," Bors complained as pulled his lover close. "Just a bit longer, hm?"

Her answer was to turn her head away when he tried to kiss her.

"Argh, fine," he grunted, pushing Vanora off his lap. "C'mon, lads, we're not wanted here any longer."

Gawain was the first to comply, pulling Galahad up with him. The young knight was the drunkest of the four; even with Gawain's hold on him he almost fell onto the dirt floor.

Lancelot picked up his spoils from the game table, waving his new dagger in Gawain's face. Bors shoved the gloating man in the shoulder, pushing him to the door.

With a final glare and a threat or two, Vanora watched the knights leave before returning to her work.

As soon as Lancelot entered his quarters, he fell none too gracefully into his bed, groaning aloud as his muscles complained from the long day made worse by the effects of alcohol. He lay still on the mattress until the thumping in his head died down. When he felt as if he could safely move again, he rose and poured water from the pitcher next to his bed into a cup. He gulped the cleansing liquid, the small buzz in his head slowly dissipating. When the cup was empty he began to prepare for his duties the following day.

Early the next afternoon he and Tristran were to leave on a short scouting trip. He would be gone only three days at most, but it was sure to be boring. However, Arthur insisted on keeping the lands around his little city safe. Because the nature of these trips was so fleeting, Arthur's knights were charged with the task. The longer, more thorough scouting trips farther out in Arthur's realm were headed by regular soldiers.

Lancelot's first task was to gather his weapons. He had recently been to see the weapons master, so he was confident they were all in good shape, but he looked them over just in case; First his twin swords, then his bow, and finally his dagger. The weapons master would have a new fletch of arrows for him in the morning. He then picked what armor he would take with him: a simple, lightweight breastplate and his gauntlets. Tristran was sure to say something about his lack of heavier armor – the man took these trips much too seriously – but Lancelot had learned over the years to ignore the lecture.

Next he found a sturdy pair of breeches, a heavy tunic, and his warmest cloak. It was sure to be rainy and snowy and Lancelot didn't much care to return to the Wall ill. Upon closer inspection of his clothing choices, he found a large rip in the side of his tunic. He couldn't remember when the damage had occurred, but a training session was his first guess.

He looked about for another suitable tunic, but all his others were either covered in mud or not right for the occasion. He had been putting off taking his garments to the laundresses for a week; he made a note to remedy that when he returned from the trip.

He scowled. His only option was to have the tunic mended in the morning, a daunting prospect. Most of the seamstresses at his preferred tailor shop, no matter how charming he was, refused to work on such short notice. He got along well with only one of the girls, Giuliana. If he could only talk to her specifically in the morning and not the disagreeable head seamstress, he knew he could convince her to mend the tunic.

Satisfied with his plan and that he was sufficiently packed, Lancelot undressed and once more rested his weary body on the bed so he could sleep.

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_So, not a very eventful chapter, but I couldn't jump right into lots of action. This story must begin with Lancelot and Giuliana getting to know each other better, as more than simple acquaintances. I will try to post chapter two when chapter three is finished. By not posting everything I have written all at once, I hope to maybe get a couple chapters ahead. The plan is to not keep anyone waiting terribly long for the next update._


	2. A Meeting of Neccessity

_Well, here's chapter two! I'm still looking for a beta, and reviews/criticism are always appreciated! _

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"I'm sorry, my lord, but the other seamstresses and I are much to busy to have your shirt mended by the afternoon." The woman's words were much politer than her tone indicated her to be.

"Lady, I heard you the first three times you told me. Now please, call Giuliana out here so I may speak with her directly. I will pay her twice the normal fee if she can do this for me!"

"I cannot do that, sir." She replied haughtily.

"And why not?" Lancelot had been arguing with the head seamstress for half an hour and he was losing his patience.

"Because Giuliana is not here."

"When will she report to work?"

"Why, I suspect never."

By now, the knight was sure this woman – irritating at the best of times – was purposely giving him vague answers. If she were a man, he would arrest her for heckling an officer of the court. Instead, he tried to be chivalrous (well, as chivalrous as Lancelot ever was) and took a deep breath to calm himself.

"Please, pray tell, explain what you mean."

"Giuliana quit two days ago. And a sorry thanks she left us, too! Every girls' work load has practically doubled!"

"You mean to tell me that you have stalled me needlessly? You have known since the moment I entered this shop that I desired to speak with Giuliana and you only just now tell me that has quit?"

"You did not ask."

"I did not - !" Lancelot yelled, losing his patience. He took another deep breath, asking through is teeth, "Have you any idea where I might find her?"

"None at all."

With a growl, Lancelot turned his back on the insufferable woman and stalked out of the shop.

He needed to find Giuliana. There was one other tailor in town, but his seamstresses did poorer work and were even less hospitable. If he became very desperate, he could ask Vanora, but she would likely pass if off on one of her older girls and if any of Bors' children got their grubby hands on his tunic, he may never see it again.

"Giuli! Giuli, look at this!"

Struggling to hold a squirming toddler in her arms, Giuliana turned in the direction of the voice calling her name. Nine was running toward her, hands clasped together in front of her, dirty blonde hair flying in the wind. Her brother Eight was not far behind.

"I've got a woad, Giuli! I've got a woad!"

Confused, Giuliana knelt before the girl when she opened her hands to show her nanny her find.

"Look!"

Upon seeing the small animal in Nine's hands, Giuliana laughed. "That's not a woad, silly girl, that's a _toad_."

"Oh!" The word was drawn out, then, "What's a woad?"

Eight answered before Giuliana could. "They eat little girls!"

"What?" Nine shrieked, throwing herself on Giuliana. "Giuli, don't let the woads eat me!"

"Oh, Nine, Nine, hush. Shh, calm down. Woads do _not_ eat little girls. Eight was just trying to scare you," She threw a glare at Eight for teasing his sister. "You need to apologize to your sister."

"I'm sorry," the boy mumbled.

Suddenly, Nine launched herself out of Giuliana's lap, jolting Ten, who began to cry. Quieting the boy, Giuliana stood to see who had taken Nine's attention so quickly.

"Lancelot!" Nine was now holding up her toad for the knight to admire. "I gots a woad!"

Lancelot looked confused, so Giuliana reminded Nine of the proper name for the animal in her hands. "A toad, Nine, a toad. Not a woad."

"Oh, right," the girl looked at her pet, as if to assure herself of what a toad looked like. "I gots a toad."

"He's a very fine toad, Nine. Perhaps if you kiss him he will turn into a prince."

"Really?" Nine asked, her eyes wide.

"Really." The knight responded with a wink.

Once more, Nine inspected her toad before declaring, "Toads are gross and slimy, Lancelot. I will not kiss it."

Giuliana sighed in relief. She did not fancy explaining to Vanora why her daughter suddenly wanted to kiss toads.

"My lord, you should not fill the children's heads with such nonsense," she chided.

"Fairy tales never hurt anyone, Miss. Every child in my tribe knew dozens of such stories by heart."

"And did the children of your tribe go around kissing toads?"

"Only those not lucky enough to catch my eye."

"Oh, those poor girls. How did they survive before you left?"

"I've no idea."

Giuliana smiled at the knight. Despite his disreputable history with women, he really was quite charming and truly, no one in the entire world could smile quite like he could, and –

"No! Eight, come down from there!" Without thinking about what she was doing, Giuliana shoved Ten into Lancelot's arms before rushing to Eight, who had climbed up a ladder leaning against a nearby house.

By the time she reached the ladder, the boy was already just out of her reach.

Knowing Eight would refuse to listen to her if she sounded cross, she called up to him in the sweetest voice she could manage, "Eight, please come down from there."

"No." was his stubborn reply.

"Yes, please. We can have more fun together if you would climb down."

"No."

"_Eight_," she warned.

"Come down here, Eight!" Nine yelled at her brother, echoing Giuliana.

Lancelot could not help but chuckle at the scene before him. Suddenly he was reminded of the babe in his arms when a loud wail pierced his ears. Clearly, Ten was not pleased with his new caretaker. Unsure of how to care for a crying baby and seeing that Giuliana was getting nowhere with Eight, Lancelot realized a reversal of roles was in order.

"Here," he handed Ten back to the young woman and before Eight knew what happened, Lancelot had plucked him from the ladder and set him back on the ground."

"Eight, you are not to climb on ladders. They can be dangerous," she scolded the boy before turning to Lancelot. "Thank you, my lord, for getting him down."

"Don't mention it."

"Come, children, say good-bye to Sir Lancelot."

"Bye, Lancelot!" Nine cried as Giuliana took her hand and led her and Eight away.

As the knight watched them leave, he remembered why he had sought out Giuliana that morning in the first place.

"Oh, wait, Giuliana! I have a favor to ask of you."

"Yes, my lord?"

"My tunic," he gestured to the garment in his hand, "I need it mended."

"Sire, there are two tailor shops in town, surely they could do your mending?"

"Usually, yes. But you see, I need it done by noon."

"That's a tall order, sir." Her eyes narrowed and Lancelot was unsure for a moment if she would agree.

"Please, Giuliana, I must have it mended, I am leaving for a scouting trip this afternoon and have nothing else suitable to wear. I will pay you double the normal price."

She eyed the tunic before sighing. "I shall see what I can do."

Giuliana rummaged through her sewing box, there was little there. She had recently made herself a new dress for the coming winter months and had used most of her small supply of thread. Sewing material was expensive and she had not yet been able to buy more. Usually she would have used the material at the shop when in a pinch, but she no longer had use of that luxury.

When she finally found some useable thread, she smiled grimly. It was lilac in color, and somehow she could not picture the dark-haired knight ever wearing such a color. Well, she thought, that's what he gets for asking last minute.

The rip was large, but thankfully along the seam so it would not be hard to fix. An hour later the repaired tunic was folded neatly on the table and Giuliana was taking care of some household chores she had neglected the day before.

She was drying the last of the dishes when there was a knock on her door, it was Lancelot.

"Come in," she beckoned. "Your tunic is on the table."

Thankfully, he did not inspect her work. She was sure his reaction the thread color would be unfavorable and she did not want to witness it.

"Would you care for some bread, my lord? It's fresh."

"Thank you, but no. If I do not head for the stables immediately I will be late and Tristran will not be pleased. Thank you for your work, here is your promised pay.

Giuliana smiled graciously and the knight left.

The first couple hours of the ride away from the Wall were silent until, "Lancelot, is your shirt purple?"

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_I have finished chapter three and can't wait to post it as soon as chapter four is finished! I hope you stick around, because things start getting a litte more interesting in the next chapter! _


	3. To Be Rescued by a Knight

_Yay, a new chapter! I have to admit that I am completely surprised at myself for writing and updating so quickly. It's highly unsual. Hopefully my inpiration will stay and there won't ever be long waits between chapters. Thanks so much to the few people who have reviewed and alerted/favorited "Redemption." It means a lot to me, and had really encouraged me to write faster. Again, I'm still looking for a beta - I want to make this story as wonderful as possible. _

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**Chapter III**

"Cheer up, Lancelot. We're almost home," Tristran was used to Lancelot's surliness, but it was starting to bother the usually even-tempered scout.

"Oh, yes, an entire day more of riding to look forward to," Lancelot shot back. "We'd be home already if it weren't for you and that blasted bird."

"Don't whine," Tristran replied. "We've been gone from the fort for much longer than this."

"True, but a scouting trip must be the least exciting thing I have ever done."

"Lancelot, you think anything unexciting if it does not involve women or ale."

The scout chuckled when Lancelot did not answer.

"Enjoy the solitude, brother. It will do you some good."

Lancelot snorted, but tried to do as Tristran said. He repositioned himself on the ground next to the campfire, closed his eyes and tried to relax. Tristran would take the first watch.

Perhaps he shouldn't complain so much. It wasn't like life at Hadrian's Wall was always exciting, anyway. But at least the Wall had women and alcohol. He grimaced as he realized just how true Tristran's earlier statement was. Was that really all his life had become about? A good woman and a good drink each night? Not wanting to continue with that depressing line of thought, Lancelot tried to quiet his mind and sleep. Fortunately, sleep did not elude his weary body for long.

The next day's ride was uneventful but despite the monotony, the knights were glad for it. The quiet meant no one had tried to attack Camelot Fort in their absence. They rode at a leisurely pace for most of the day, not arriving at the fort until late after suppertime.

In the stable to greet them were Arthur, Jols, and the stable master, Marcus.

"Welcome home, friends," Arthur greeted.

"Arthur," Lancelot acknowledged. He slid off his horse and handed the reigns to Marcus. The stable boys had been sent home for the night, but the stable master did not mind staying late to care for the knights' horses.

"You are late in your return. Was their trouble?" Arthur worried.

"There was nothing, Arthur. Tristran was simply spooked."

"I thought I may have seen traces of Saxon activity, but after closer inspection it turned out to be nothing."

"I see. Perhaps we should strengthen the security around the fort. What say you?"

Lancelot wanted to say it was a waste of time and men, but he knew it was simply his hunger and fatigue talking, so for once he held his tongue.

"It certainly wouldn't hurt," Tristran replied, "but I wouldn't worry too much."

Arthur did not answer, but he had one of those looks in his eyes that Lancelot had learned to hate over the years.

"I'm hungry," Lancelot declared. "Has Vanora closed the tavern yet?"

Suddenly Jols reappeared at their sides, having finished helping Marcus with the horses. "Actually, Vanora instructed me to inform you that she has a hot meal waiting for you, free of charge."

"Bless that woman."

"Come, I will accompany you," said Arthur.

Not caring to stay away from his warm bed longer than necessary, Lancelot headed to the bar rather than their usual table, where Bors and Dagonet were sat tonight, and Tristran and Arthur followed.

Vanora was quick to bring them some supper and ale, which the tired men gladly accepted.

"It's good to have you both back safe. Your trip went well, then?"

Tristran and Lancelot simply nodded, their mouths too full to verbalize a response.

"Has Giuliana already gone home, Vanora?" Arthur asked.

"Yes, sir, just before you came in. Is there something you need?"

"It's nothing. Guinevere simply asked me to inquire something of her."

Tristran sniggered at the King's response. Arthur was completely blind when it came to anything regarding Guinevere. All the knights had thought it would wear off when the couple ended their honeymoon phase, but Arthur had yet to show signs of ever once refusing his queen when it came to simple, trivial things.

Lancelot, however, hadn't been paying attention to his companions. He found it strange that Arthur mentioned Giuliana. He found it even stranger that he cared. Lancelot met Giuliana 11 years into his service to Rome, and the two had always gotten along well, but he had interacted with her more on the day he left for the scouting trip almost more than he ever had before. Was it usual for one person to suddenly seem so present in another person's life? Lancelot shook his head, blaming his musings on how tired he was. He really hadn't seen Giuliana much more than usual recently. Had he?

He finished his meal, thanked Vanora, and bid Arthur and Tristran good night. The king was talking to the scout about the supposed Saxon tracks he had seen, and Lancelot had no desire to get involved. Bors and Dagonet were also making their way over, and Lancelot was running low on patience for company. He simply wanted to go to bed, on his mattress that was much more comfortable than the cold ground he had been sleeping on for the last few nights.

The streets were quiet as he made his way to his quarters in the large house he shared with the other knights, Lucan, Bors' family, and Arthur and Guinevere.

"Get away from me," a voice pierced the night. A man's voice answered, sounding angry, but Lancelot could not make out the words. The first voice spoke again, and he realized it as a woman's. His interested piqued and slightly worried, the First Knight headed toward where the voices came from.

Not much farther up the street he was on, just inside the mouth of an alley, Lancelot found Giuliana and a man he recognized but could not name.

"I said don't touch me," Giuliana hissed.

"Is there a problem here?" Lancelot made his presence known.

The two arguers looked up in surprise at the interloper.

"Sir Lancelot," Giuliana breathed, while the man said, "Of course not."

Sensing that he would be forced to leave by the man if he did not intervene on Giuliana's behalf, he asked, "Can I help you with something, Giuliana?"

She looked incredibly relieved as she opened her mouth to answer, but she was cut off.

"I was just escorting the lady home."

Giuliana's eyes widened in panic at the thought that Lancelot might now leave her alone with this stranger, an action the knight did not miss.

"Were you? Because her brother just sent me to fetch her from the tavern for him, and I was quite surprised when I found her absent from the establishment," he lied smoothly.

It was the other man's turn to panic. The knight was clearly not going to leave easily. Before he had time to form a persuading response, the girl walked toward Lancelot.

"Oh, thank you, Sir Lancelot. That was so kind of you. I apologize if I caused you any distress."

Lancelot eyed Giuliana; she played the part well, but she was clearly still disturbed by the other man's presence.

"Shall we go, then?" he nobly offered her his arm, which she took.

"Yes, thank you."

Neither spared the man a second glance as they left the alley. Giuliana's house was in the opposite direction of where Lancelot lived, but after that strange encounter he did not mind the extra walk or the late hour. He found he was now very concerned with Giuliana's safety.

When they had turned on to the next street and Lancelot was sure the man had not followed them, he finally spoke.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes." Her terse reply surprised him. Her demeanor was quite changed from just a few moments ago.

"Who was that man?"

"No one."

"What did he want?"

"Nothing."

With each answer, Lancelot became more annoyed. He had just rescued this woman, and she did not even have the decency to tell him what he had rescued her from!

"It did not look like nothing. You seemed both angry and frightened when I found you."

His words were futile, serving only to alienate her further. She took her arm out of his and replied coldly, "I had it under control."

Lancelot sighed, running a frustrated hand through his curls. Giuliana sped up her pace and refused to speak to him the rest of the walk. When they reached her house she immediately entered without a thank you or good bye, and was clearly irritated that Lancelot followed her in. But he was not going to leave until he was sure Marcus was home as well.

"Giuliana?" her brother questioned as she pushed through the front room and disappeared through a door in the back wall. "Lancelot?"

The stable master was clearly confused.

"I found her in an alley," Lancelot supplied quietly. "She was arguing with a man whose name I do not know. I offered to bring her home, but she would not tell me what happened."

"I see," Marcus nodded his head in understanding. Perhaps Giuliana's cold silence was a usual occurrence. Lancelot found that odd, as he had only known Giuliana to be a cheery sort. "Well, thank you for bringing her home. I worry about her now that she works in the tavern. Usually Gilly escorts her home."

"Your worry is understandable. Good night, Marcus."

"Good night, Lancelot. And thank you again."

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_Well, there it is. I can't wait to post Chapter IV, I think you'll really like it._

_Also, I wanted to add a description of where Lancelot lived, but I just couldn't find a good way to add it in, so I'll just tell you here. I imagine all of the knights living in a large, mansion like house. It houses all the knights, plus Lucan who now lives with Dagonet, all of Bors' family is there (he and Vanora are married now), and Arthur and Guinevere. There are a few extra bedrooms, the Round Table room, a sort-of throne room for Arthur to meet with his people, a kitchen and dining area, baths, an inside training room, a large garden, which is attached to a large room for parties and similar events. Try to picture a Roman Villa; I didn't see Arthur as living in a castle, but I did want something a little grandiose, yet still practical. Yeah, there was no way I could have put that into this chapter, and I couldn't think of another chapter to put it in, except for waaay down the road. Still, I wanted to share it with you._

_Happy Valentine's Day! (It's less than an hour away from the 14th where I live at the moment)_

_~Alice_


	4. Candles, Prayers, and Questions

_So, I'm breaking my own rules and posting this chapter early. I'm in the midst of writing chapter V, and it's proving a little difficult, so don't expect such a quick update after this chapter. I just couldn't wait to post any longer._

_If you enjoy listening to music while reading, I highly recommend Mumford and Sons for this story. I listen to them constantly while I write each chapter, and their song "White Blank Page" is my Lancelot's theme song. _

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_**Chapter IV**

Giuliana lay wide awake in her bed, sleep far from her grasp. She did not know what time it was, but she guessed early morning. Long ago Marcus had stopped trying to coax her out of her room, wanting to talk to her, wanting her to tell him what had happened. But telling Marcus about her argument with Raul would mean telling him about why she had quit working with Thaddeus, and that admission came with a shame she could not bear. She shivered despite her warm blanket as she remembered the feel of Raul's hot breath on her neck as he threatened her, only hours ago. In the tailor shop she had always shown him cheek, unafraid of his response with customers always surrounding them, but when alone with him, Raul was truly frightening.

"You owe your master, girl," he had whispered into her ear, holding her body close to his.

She had tried to break free, but he was too strong. "I am no slave, I owe him nothing."

Raul had laughed in her face. "Have you forgotten your father's debts so easily?"

Finally she had wriggled one arm free just enough so that she could elbow him in the gut. The blow was not terribly strong, but it shocked Raul enough that he let go of his hold on her, and she quickly fled to the entrance of the alley. But he was quick to follow her, reaching out to grab her once more. It was then that, by the grace of God, Lancelot had appeared. Giuliana always felt safer when the knights were around. The men were a little rough around the edges, and she had heard frightening stories of their Sarmartian home, but they exuded such confidence and honor that she could not help but to feel secure in their presence.

As Lancelot led her home, a part of Giuliana wanted to tell him everything. Of the things Thaddeus had done to her, of Raul's threats, perhaps even of her scarred childhood, but the notion made her feel like a weak little girl, something she never wanted to be again, so she held her tongue. Yet the knight kept prodding for information, and with each question her longing to open up grew, so she lashed out at him and became cold. She knew it was unfair, but no one needed the burden of the demons that haunted Giuliana.

Her guilt was increased when she heard Lancelot and Marcus talking. Frustration was evident in Lancelot's voice, and sorrow in Marcus'. She knew her brother only wanted to help her, but she refused to allow Marcus to feel the weight of her pain. Her brother was the most pure and noble soul she knew, and he had always been her protector. Protecting him from her burdens was her way of repaying him, but she knew he would disagree if she told him this. He had been so patient with her over the past two years, as things at Thaddeus' shop grew steadily worse and worse. He had been even kinder to her these past weeks as she quit her seamstress job, and looked for other work. He was silent when she told him she had taken a job at the tavern, the only visible sign of his disapproval was the look in his eyes. He softened slightly when she explained Vanora was allowing her to perform only some of the tasks of a tavern wench, and the work she didn't do would be made up by occasionally watching the woman's many children.

An hour before the Sun's first light began peeking over the horizon, a fretful sleep finally overtook Giuliana's troubled mind.

* * *

Lancelot's blade clanged as it met Galahad's, the metal of each sword shining violently in the sunlight. The knights had been practicing all morning, taking advantage of the cool breeze and bright sunshine.

The men had rejoiced at the fair weather, but Tristran, always the one to point out what might go wrong, said he did not trust it to stay long, and warned of a storm by noon. Galahad had groaned and chastised the scout for always being negative, to which Tristran childishly responded he wasn't, and the two bickered until Gawain finally knocked Galahad over the head. Lancelot heard him mutter he would have hit Tristran too, but he was sure to retaliate unfairly. Galahad, on the other hand, was used to Gawain's brotherly abuse.

Not long after Lancelot had begun his spar with Galahad, the rain began to fall. All of the knights complained at the sudden change in weather, while Dagonet reminded them it would be practical to practice in the rain. They ignored him, and he quickly silenced the suggestion, not wanting to be out in the rain any more than his brothers.

Before returning to his quarters to dry off and change his clothes, Lancelot stopped by the stables to check on his horse and make sure she had been well cared for after her journey.

"Come to check on Elvire, Lancelot?" Marcus greeted.

"You know me well," he replied. Every stable hand knew well that Lancelot constantly checked on the care of his beloved mare, and that if she was neglected in even the slightest, the person to blame would get a thorough lecture on the proper care and respect of animals from the knight.

"My best boys have cared for her today," Marcus informed him as he followed Lancelot to Elvire's stall. "She was re-shoed and given a good bath and brushing."

Lancelot stroked his mare's nose, getting an affectionate nip in return. "Thank you, Marcus. She looks well."

Marcus nodded in acknowledgement, watching the knight and his horse. It never ceased to amaze the stable master the reverence with which Sarmatians regarded their horses. He had heard rumors that Sarmatians believed horses held the souls of deceased warriors, but he himself had never asked one of the knights directly about the legend.

"How is Giuliana?"

The question surprised Marcus, but he answered truthfully, "I cannot be sure. I have not seen her today, except to look in on her while she was still sleeping. She no longer tells me of what troubles her."

"I do not know your sister intimately, but she seems changed to me," Lancelot said. "Tell me, why did she quit her job as a seamstress?"

"I could not say, she has refused to inform me of her reasons. I worry for her."

Lancelot clapped the other man on the shoulder, "You are a good brother to her, Marcus. I can only hope I would have cared half as much for my sister if I had stayed in Sarmatia as you do for Giuliana."

Their conversation was cut short when a stable boy called for Marcus. The man bid Lancelot good bye, then rushed off to whatever matter he was needed for. Lancelot stayed in the stable for a few minutes more before leaving himself.

* * *

The rain was coming down hard now, but Giuliana resolutely pulled her hood over her head and stepped out into the streets. Few people were also outside, and they all were rushing about, trying to get home and find shelter. Giuliana dashed through the streets, avoiding puddles and holding her cloak close. The church was not far from her home, but her dark curls were soaked and her hem muddy when she arrived.

"Gracious, child, you look like a wild thing," Father Delroy exclaimed as she hung her cloak near the door.

"I am sorry for my appearance, Father," Giuliana apologized with a small smile.

"Nonsense. God welcomes his children no matter what they look like. What brings you here today, my dear?"

"I – I just needed to pray, Father."

"Then come, light a candle and sit in silence with the Lord. He will hear you."

"Thank you."

Giuliana felt slightly foolish as she walked to the front of the small parish and lit a candle, kneeling before its light. She knew God heard her prayers just as well at home as he did in the church, and she chided herself for coming here. A part of her wanted to return home, but Father Delroy was so kind to accept her into this place of worship dripping with rain water and smelling like a wet dog that she felt it would be rude to leave so suddenly.

Sitting on the old wood floor of the chapel, with the light of so many prayer candles around her, Giuliana began to relax. The warmth of the building's fireplaces seeped into her skin, the scent of incense filled her nose. She felt so at peace, and she was reminded of why she had longed to come to the church in the first place.

Giuliana was unsure of how long she knelt before her candle, but she was sure of her lightness of spirit by the time she had finished. The church was empty save for her and Father Delroy, so the girl felt comfortable whispering her prayers aloud. When she was not talking to God, she simply sat in the quiet, enjoying the peace it afforded her and listening for an answer to her prayer. She did not get one that day, but she was confident Heaven had her prayers and would not turn its back on her.

When she rose from the floor, Father Delroy stood not far behind her.

"You are troubled, my child." It was not a question, but Giuliana was not surprised by his bluntness. The priest had always seemed to have a sixth sense about these things, she simply assumed it was because he spent so much time in meditation with God.

"Yes, Father." This time, her short answer was not cold, but quiet and timid.

"Do not worry, all trials end in time."

"But what if - "

"No," the priest cut her off. "There are no buts about it. God loves his creatures; He does not leave them in darkness for long."

"Thank you, Father." Giuliana smiled at the older man; his words were always a comfort to her heavy heart.

"You are welcome."

A few other worshippers began to trickle into the church; the rain had ceased, no longer keeping them inside their houses. Feeling much better than she had when she arrived, Giuliana left and returned home.

* * *

_And, there you have it. I hope you had a splendid Valentine's Day - I certainly did!_

_-Alice_


	5. Of Orders and Walls

**Fear not, dear readers, I have returned! I apologize so much for the wait on this chapter. I don't know what happened, but I just did not know what to write! I was constantly thinking about it and berating myself for not writing, then finally - voila! - I was in my astronomy class and I finally started writing again! I dearly hope you won't have to wait so long for Chapter VI!**

* * *

A week later, Raul was sitting in the back room of the Thaddeus' tailor shop. The man was fighting with his nerves; he had been ordered to a meeting with his boss, an event that rarely ended well. To the people living in Camelot Fort, Thaddeus Dexus was a good and respected man. He was a shrewd businessman, and his thriving shop kept the city prosperous and many men and women employed. He was rich and charitable, often throwing lavish parties for the entire town at his Roman villa. The housewives told tall tales of how he personally knew the Emperor when he lived in Rome, and how even now King Arthur asked him for advice. The gossips and those foolish enough to believe them were confident that Thaddeus often dined with the King and Queen, who esteemed him as greatly as the knights. Raul, however, knew the truth. Thaddeus was a cruel and greedy man, not the heroic heart Camelot made him out to be. His tailoring business generated strong revenue, but was truly a front for his illegal herb trade. As a rule, Thaddeus never sold to citizens of whatever city he currently lived in; unwanted gossip spread too quickly that way. He kept his business in cities where word would not easily reach the ears of Arthur and his knights. The price for Thaddeus' herbs was high; so thugs like Raul enforced payment. Raul himself didn't partake in the drugs, but he had always enjoyed intimidating others and readily accepted the job when Thaddeus offered.

For years, Raul had been in charge of Marcus and Giuliana Atticus. Currently he was focused on forcing Giuliana to return to work as a seamstress in Thaddeus' tailor shop, a feat that was proving more difficult than he expected. Alexander Atticus had accumulated a large debt to Thaddeus in his lifetime, and the responsibility to repay fell to his only surviving children. Marcus had a good paying job as Camelot's stable master, but payments to Thaddeus were few and far between. To make up for the slack, over half of Giuliana's seamstress wages went toward the debt. Raul estimated the debt would have been paid in full in three more years, but if he did not have control over Giuliana's wages, it would take even longer and Thaddeus was becoming impatient.

"Raul!" beckoned Thaddeus from inside his office. Taking a steadying breath, Raul stood from his chair and entered the other room, preparing himself for his boss's wrath. But to his surprise and relief, it never came.

"Sit down, Raul," the older man gestured to the seat opposite him. "It has come to my attention that Giuliana Atticus is no longer under my employ. Would you know anything about this?"

"I believe she was run off, sir," Raul replied nervously; this was exactly information he wanted to divulge.

"Run off? By whom? My girls are not petty gossips; she would not have been run off by jealous spats amongst her fellow workers."

"No, sir. It was not the other girls." Thaddeus raised an eyebrow, demanding Raul to continue. "It is your soldiers who are to blame; the men of my ranks." The eyebrow lifted higher, and Raul explained further. "Giuliana Atticus is a woman of great beauty, Lord Dexus. Your men were aware of this, and often tried to take advantage of her."

Thaddeus stopped Raul, "I see. While some employers would find fault in this behavior, I do not. My men work hard; they deserve to find their pleasures wherever it suits them. Did you find the girl's beauty pleasing, Raul?"

"I did, my lord, but I find no further pleasure in peasant women."

"Ah, but you forget her father was a great Roman governor."

Raul knew he was being baited, and cautiously chose his next words. "Forgive me, but I see nothing noble in her now."

Thaddeus eyed Raul, before agreeing. "Well spoken, lad, well spoken. Now to the real business: have you attempted to, ah, persuade her to return to her work for me?"

"I have, and she refused."

"Surely a mere woman's refusal would not stop you, Raul."

"No, my lord, but the protection of a knight does."

Thaddeus looked surprised. "A knight, you say? Which one?"

"Sir Lancelot of the Twin Swords."

"Sir Lancelot? He is a fearsome warrior. Even I dislike purposely crossing paths with him. He's much too noble; much like our dear King," he sneered. "Tell me, what has Giuliana done to earn his protection?"

"I know not, sir. I was not even aware the two were acquaintances."

Thaddeus frowned. "This is a problem, Raul. Giuliana will be almost untouchable if she has caught Lancelot's eye. Still, do not give up entirely. Let her be for now; persuade her to return to me no longer. Lie low; let her believe she is safe. In a couple weeks' time, when she no longer fears your shadow, return to her; threaten her a bit. Do what you must to collect from her. I will not wait for her idiot brother to pay Alexander Atticus' debt alone. There is nothing we can do about this knight, Arthur would be sure to notice and investigate. We don't need trouble like that. Scare her every once in awhile, but do not attract Lancelot's attention."

"I understand, my lord."

* * *

Noise erupted from a corner of the tavern, causing Giuliana to jump. She scolded herself; weeks of work had done nothing to cure her irrational fear. She harshly reminded herself not to be so jumpy; nobody in the tavern harbored her any ill will or intentions of harming her. She knew almost every patron at least by name, and was on speaking terms with many. Still, she knew the negative effects alcohol could have on a man's conscience and had no wish to ever witness it again. It was little comfort to her that Vanora kept a close eye on her customers, kicking out anyone who became too drunk or too rowdy.

"Giuliana!" surprisingly, Giuliana made no reaction other than to search out the familiar voice that had called her name. It was Lancelot.

"Good evening, Sir Lancelot," she greeted merrily. "Do you dine alone tonight?"

"I do. What are you serving?"

"Roast lamb with fresh bread. You'll want ale to drink, I suppose?"

The knight nodded, "You know me well, Giuliana."

"It'll be right up."

As Giuliana left Lancelot to give his order to the cooks, she realized that she did indeed know Lancelot better than she ever thought she might. For the past month he had visited the tavern two or three times a week, always on nights when she was working. Many nights he came alone, and took his supper at the bar. He always made conversation with Giuliana, sometimes so much that he distracted her from her work. Giuliana found it strange that he had suddenly decided to sup at the tavern so often; she knew the royal villa in which he lived housed its own cooking staff. Yes, the tavern was open later than the villa's kitchen was, but Lancelot almost always came promptly at five o'clock: suppertime. The other nights he visited, he came with his brothers in arms. On these occasions he sat at the knights' usual table, consuming large amounts of ale with his friends, laughing and joking. Sometimes he acknowledged Giuliana, sometimes he didn't.

Giuliana returned to Lancelot several minutes later with his promised food and drink. As soon as she arrived back at the bar, she was called away by another customer. Almost half an hour passed before she was able to return to the knight; by that time he had finished his meal and was thoughtfully sipping from his tankard. A week earlier, it had disturbed Giuliana to find that she rather enjoyed simply watching the man when he brooded. His dark eyes would settle on one object and stare at it, as if it could give him the answers to the questions that plagued his mind. Like every village girl, she harbored a small crush on Lancelot and found him handsome, but she had never thought any more of it. Lancelot was an attractive and charming man; it was to be expected. But the realizations of last week and tonight were almost too much for Giuliana to comprehend they were so astonishing.

Suddenly, Lancelot broke his reverie and asked, "What are you doing here, Giuliana?"

Giuliana was taken aback by the question, by promptly answered with some confusion, "I am working."

He rolled his eyes. "Yes, I can see that. I'm no scout but I do have eyes."

"Perhaps you should not ask such silly questions, then," she joked.

He did not return her smile. "I am serious, Giuliana. What are you doing here? Why work in a place like this? It's obvious you aren't comfortable with it." Giuliana was mortified that Lancelot had noticed how jumpy she was in the tavern. She did not answer, so he continued. "Why does Marcus allow you to work? I know his income is not large, but it is enough to care for the both of you. It's not right."

Her brother's words from her first night at the tavern rang in her head. _It's not right._ Suddenly, she became angry. What did this knight know of her situation?

"Marcus does not 'allow' me to work," she hissed. "It was my choice. What would you know of my reasons for being here? Nothing. So do not pretend to care and pass such judgments!"

She did not allow Lancelot to reply. She stomped away from the knight, seeking out Vanora. She gave the tavern keeper a pathetic excuse of a stomachache and quickly left for her home. As she left the tavern, however, she caught a glimpse of a solitary man in the corner of the tavern. Raul.

When she arrived home, Marcus was mercifully still away. Chilled, she stoked a fire and sat in front of the hearth. For the second time, she was ashamed of her actions toward Lancelot. Even before their paths began crossing so often, he had always been kind to her, and a friend to Marcus. Why did she lash out at him so? Why did she not simply tell him the truth? It was obvious he cared, he would not have asked otherwise; Lancelot did not like pointless conversations. But every time he mentioned her current situation, something inside of her broke, and she immediately built up a wall around her heart to protect herself, refusing to open up, effectively shutting Lancelot out. But she was never sure how long her wall would stand against the war his pleading, caring eyes would wage, so she ran away like a little girl throwing a tantrum. Like she had tonight. Feeling tears prickle at her eyes, she refused to think about the knight any more.

Instead, a more troubling man took his place in her thoughts. Raul had left her alone since that night in the alley; why had he shown up now? Was he still planning to persuade her to return to the tailor shop? The idea made her shudder. She knew that no matter what Raul did to her, she could not return to that place. Never.

* * *

**Happy Mardi Gras!**

**-Alice  
**


End file.
